Porcelain
by Yuvia
Summary: Things had been weird alright... they had been weird since three years and seventy-two hours ago... Chapter 6 is up and running. One more and we'll be done! Please read and review!
1. Prelude

"So what happens now?"

The sound of those words permeated the air. He didn't really want to think about it, yet there was that nagging necessity to do so. He sighed as he ran his hands across his face, wanting to clear his mind before answering the question.

"I don't know," Dee said, and he meant it. Across the room was JJ, leaning against the door frame, his coat hanging from his crossed arms, his bag on the floor. Dee wanted to say something yet he couldn't bring himself to find the words.

"Dee –"

"Can we please leave it like that for now? I have – I have to think. Things are… weird now."

Things were weird alright. Things had been totally weird… since three years and seventy-two hours ago.


	2. Chapter 1: Trouble in Mind

**Author's Notes: Welcome to the first chapter of this new story. I hope that it becomes as beloved as Russian Blue did once. Please leave your comments and reviews as I do take them seriously and they motivate me to continue with the work.**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own FAKE. The characters belong to Sanami Matoh. The song, "Trouble in Mind" is by Amos Milburn.

**Porcelain**

**_Chapter 1: Trouble in Mind_**

New York is a city that never sleeps. They always tell you that one. The postcards always picture this bright light escapade where dreams can come true, you can fall in love, where everything happens twice, and if the milk goes sour you just go to the corner and buy a fresh carton. They never tell you the ugly parts. They never tell you about the loneliness, the heartache, the lies, the bullshit, the violence, the milk that went sour at three o'clock in the morning. They never tell you that one day you go to bed next to the love of your life and the next day you're alone.

I never quite could figure it out myself.

I didn't used to be like this. Three years and eighty-five hours ago I wasn't like this, sitting at a bar, drinking whiskey and smoking something that tastes more like a rat's ass than anything else. I was different. Everything was different: the precinct, the city, the wind – everything. Life was different in a good way. Every day I would get up, thank the stars I was still alive to see my friends again, wash my teeth, have breakfast, and report for duty. And when my shift was over, I thanked my stars that I was still alive again, go home, watch some TV, read a book, and think about how wonderful Dee was.

Dee was definitely different.

There was always this spark of fire in his eyes that was somewhat attractive, persuasive, entrancing. This fire that seemed to pierce inside your soul, looking for its darker inner secrets; a fire that left you completely shaken and breathless, and that at the same time you longed for and craved. It was like an addiction, to look into those eyes and be submerged in them. I think that was the main reason I was attracted to him back at the Academy. Aside from his dashing good looks, I would venture to guess that it was his overwhelming confidence what made me fall like a giddy school girl for that man. I was more than happy when I stumbled upon him once again at the precinct. Okay, more than happy – I was right down ecstatic, I admit it. I had one more shot at being next to him and it was something to be definitely thankful to those stars.

I never expected that fire to go out but it did. And now that I recall everything that went down, I wish I could go back in time and smack myself on the head. How come I never saw it? How come I never took notice of the mess that was happening around them? I could have done something to help – something to save Dee's fire. Back then, I would have given my left hand and my right eye to work with Dee as partners. I was madly in love with that man. And the few times I did get the chance to work with him, I cherish the time as precious as gold. True, I didn't let my feelings towards Dee go unnoticed; I would even go ahead and admit I was right down obnoxious and I don't blame Dee for avoiding me like the plague back then. But after all this time, I now miss those days.

In the end, I got my wish. But I got an empty shell to go with it too.

I miss Dee.

_Troubled in mind, I'm little blue  
Bet you I won't be blue always  
'Cause that ol' sun's gonna shine  
On Jerry Lee Lewis's back door step someday_

_I'm gonna lay my head  
On somebody's lonesome railroad line  
Let that ol' midnight special  
Ease my troubled mind_

_Well, they tell me that old graveyard  
Is a mighty lonesome place  
Lord they put you six feet under  
Shovellin' mud directly in your face_

_Well, goodbye baby, may God bless you  
And may He bless ol' Killer a little bit too  
Oh, don't meet you over yonder, baby  
When they throw that Jerry right over you_

_Troubled in mind, when I'm little blue  
Bet you I won't be blue always  
'Cause the sun's gonna shine  
On, on my back door step  
Some lowdown, lonesome, mother humpin' day_


	3. Chapter 2: Broken Like Mine

**Author's Notes: Well, 52 hits. That's not too bad. But I need reviews, people! Gimme some feedback on how the story is going. I know that it's hard to do that under a chapter and a prelude so short it seems to be flying by… but promise you'll leave something after this chapter?  
**

**Disclaimer: Sanami Matoh owns FAKE. The story you're about to read is a fanfic made by my twisted brain. The song "Broken Like Mine" by Cross Canadian Ragweed**

**Porcelain**

_Chapter 2: Broken Like Mine_

Dee woke up that morning with the sense of confusion, whiskey, and emptiness – a very bad combo. He stumbled across the room and over to the bathroom, where he splashed some water on his face before looking at the mirror and stare for a good three minutes at this reflection. He really needed to shave.

After the short bath, he walked into the small living room and into the kitchen to see what was surviving on the fridge that was non-alcoholic and still edible, turning on the TV in the process so that he could hear sounds and not have the feeling of being alone. A cup of jell-o later, he opened the door to pick-up the paper, sat down on the couch and proceeded to read.

Or at least, he proceeded to pretend he was reading.

The truth was that he wasn't paying attention to the letters or to the news. He was more or less remembering the events that had led to his point in his life. It wasn't a pretty sight to remember, but somehow he found himself addicted to the necessity to remember, to gather piece by piece all the events that took place in the past. He needed to feel something akin to his heart beating once more in order to feel alive. He was sort of expecting the phone to ring at any moment but this didn't happen. He had taken his cell phone and was now looking at it, as if it would ring just by glaring directly at the screen. No new messages, no missed call, no voice mail, nothing; J.J. had taken his petitions seriously this time. He cussed aloud at the sheer thought of it and threw the phone clear across the room, smashing it against the wall. Just then, the house phone rang.

"Hello?" he said.

"Dee?"

Dee recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. He smiled weakly. "Hi, Carol."

"I thought you had the night shift today, is everything okay?"

"Everything is just _peachy_. What's up?"

"I called to tell you that my plane will arrive on Saturday at 11, gate B."

"Perfect. I'll be there."

"Good. I missed you very much. Everyone here is so strange. Maybe it's the spooky weather, I don't know. I miss you and New York…"

There was a silence. "Who else is there to miss?" Dee muttered.

"So, I'll see you then on Saturday?" Carol pretended not to hear.

"See you Saturday. We'll have coffee, we'll talk, you can settle in again… I'll see you on Saturday."

"How's J.J.?"

"Good. He'll probably want to tag along, hope you don't mind."

"The more the merrier!"

"I'll see you Saturday then."

He hung up. _Who else is there to miss?_, he kept thinking to himself as he leaned his head against his hands. The house was empty, he thought to himself as tears began to form in his eyes. He resisted the temptation to break right then and there, so he got dressed and decided to take a walk – maybe even drink a beer or two if a bar would stumble upon his way. When he opened the door, though, J.J. was on the other side holding a brown paper bag on his right hand and a pack of beers on his left hand.

"You didn't answer your cell," he said as raised the bag to eye-level. "So I made an executive decision and brought some Chinese food. Are you hungry?"

"More like thirsty," Dee said with a chuckle. J.J. held up the six-pack on his left hand. "Well, I'll be darn!" Dee laughed and stepped to the side, allowing J.J. to walk inside.

"Carol arrives on Saturday," Dee announced as J.J. placed the food on the small coffee table right next to the beers. "I thought you might like to go with me to welcome her. She doesn't have anyone else here…" he dragged that last part as if he was sorry to say it aloud but it was too late to stop himself now. J.J. smiled.

"Sure. I'll be happy to go. Did she enjoy her trip?"

"Sounds like it," Dee grunted as he sat and grabbed one of the trays with food. "I'm sure she brought you souvenirs."

J.J. sat on the couch in front of Dee and opened a tray. "This is good," he said as he gave a taste. Dee sighed.

"Yeah," he said. "Good."

J.J. looked worried. "You haven't been to your counseling sessions, have you?"

"I don't need them right now," Dee placed the food tray on the table.

"Dee—"

"Stop it, J.J.! Just leave me alone for one god-frigging minute!" Dee snapped, getting up and walking around like a caged animal. "All I need is a minute to figure out what the fuck is going on in here" he pointed to his heart, "—and here!" and he pointed to his head. "Is that so hard to understand? Do I have to spell it out for you people?"

"No," J.J. said calmly. "But the fact that you haven't talked about Ry—" at that moment, Dee took one of the cans and threw it at J.J. who, if he hadn't had those keen reflexes had been hit pretty darn hard by the can that busted as soon as it hit the wall behind him. He looked shocked at Dee, who took his jacket, his keys, and slammed the door on his way out.

_Ain't it true what they say,  
Every dog has his day?  
I never had mine:  
I guess it was time.  
Send me on down the line,  
One piece at a time._

_Broken like mine,  
For some piece of mind,  
I'll be happy when I find,  
A love __less unkind,  
Broken like mine._


	4. Chapter 3: Shake Me

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for the 195 hits this story has. But com'on people! Reviews are also good! So, read the story, leave your review and contribute to the goodyness of this story. Am I going to use a little bit of lemon and spice? Could be. What happened to Ryo? Ah! That's for me to know and you to find out! Is the relationship between Dee and JJ? Well, let's just see what happens in the story, shall we?

Disclaimer: FAKE does not belong to me. It belongs to Sanami Matoh. All the rest of the story comes out of my twisted mind. The song is originally called "Sacudeme" (Shake me) and it's by the Mexican rock group, Fobia.

**Porcelain**

_Chapter 3: Shake me_

The sight of Carol as she stepped out of the airplane and into the chair area was like blessings to a dry land. Tension had been growing between J.J. and Dee, both at work and off work. Dee's bad temper had become infamous amongst the underworld, so much so that it was said that if Dee was on your tail, you'd better pray that someone else got to you first. For the most part, J.J. had been the only one who still managed to survive Dee's tantrums, yet this was beginning to feel like a burden even to him.

Carol hugged Dee tightly as she flung her arms around him and laughed. "Dee! I missed you so much!" she cheered. She turned her attention to J.J. "Hi J.J., how are you?" she hugged the shorter man.

"I've been surviving Dee," J.J. said giving Dee a slightly dirty look. Dee grunted.

"It's called payback for all the hell you put me through at the Academy. Com'on, let's get your bags," he said. Carol walked between them, both arms holding each man's arm. She talked on and on about her trip to California, and how the sun and the sea had done wonders for her and her mood. She even talked about a boy named Joshua.

"Joshua?" J.J. asked as Dee silently picked up Carol's bag from the carrier. "Where you meet?"

"I met him at the beach, the second day I was there. I was walking on the beach and he called out because his beach ball had bounced off the court him and his friends where playing at. He invited me to play, but as soon as I started to do it I realized just how badly I suck at beach volleyball. After that, we talked and he walked me over to my hotel… and the next morning, there he was, waiting to see if I would come out. We hung out and he showed me around, and stuff. He's really nice."

"Maybe we'll meet him one day, hum?" J.J. smiled. Carol winked.

"He's coming to New York in three weeks."

Dee growled. "What for?" he asked.

"He's visiting his parents here." Carol replied noticing the tension in Dee's voice. She then turned back to J.J., "He lives in California with his aunt, but he comes to New York at least thrice a year to visit the mother ship."

"Neat!" J.J. grinned.

"So, he's gonna visit them and me while he's at it!" Carol clapped.

They took J.J. home before arriving to the apartment they shared on the other side of town. The place was not too big, not too small, and they had been roommates ever since Carol's aunt passed away, leaving Carol with no family to turn to but Dee. On the other hand, Dee had no one to call his family except the orphanage children and nun, and even they couldn't understand or help him with the inner hell he was going through. So he welcomed Carol to his life and had been taking care of her for the last three years.

As soon as the door opened, Carol noticed the blipping light on the telephone's answering machine. She rushed to it and pressed play. _Hello Carol, it's me, Josh… I was just calling to say hi and to see if you made it okay. Call you later, okay? Bye!_

Carol smiled and erased. Dee had closed the door and dropped the bag next to the phone. "So – this Josh person…"

"Dee, don't start," Carol sounded tired. "He's a friend – a good friend. He's just calling to say hi and to see if I'm good, okay?"

"But he's coming to New York in three weeks, ain't he? And he's calling all the way from California just to see if you made it okay, right?" Dee dropped to the couch and made his remarks with an acid tone. Carol stood there, her arms crossed to the front, looking at Dee as if he was some sort of spoiled brat who needed a spanking.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just wondering if Mr. Wonderful there was just a friendly companion or if he was more like a friendly love-toy you got yourself there…"

"What if he is a love-toy?" Carol asked daringly. "I need to move on with my life, Dee. I'm sure Bikky would have wanted me to move on and not be all sad and down all my life, I'm twenty-one years old for Christ's sake! You should do the same!"

She took her bag and the phone, and marched to her room closing the door behind her. Dee sighed.

_Cold, I am so cold_

_I have been so long in here_

_They've opened the trunk_

_Where you hid me once_

_And this dust started to feel you_

Sadly, I came home only to find out that in these past couple of weeks, Dee hasn't changed.

I thought that by the time I came back he would have realized how much better life is when you let everything go. When you realize that the people who love you want you to move on with your life.

I miss Bikky. I do. Sometimes I can feel him next to me, especially when I feel alone. And I have loads of pictures of him to remind myself of his face and smile every time I feel down. He was always smiling around me – and he always made sure I smiled. He didn't like to see me cry, that's why I decided I wasn't going to cry anymore. I cried when they told me, I cried at the hospital, I cried at the funeral, and I cried a few weeks after that. But then I saw those pictures and came to realize that crying wasn't going to bring him back. So I stopped crying and began to live – for both of us.

Dee's case is far more difficult, I think. He and Ryo didn't speak much after Bikky's death. Dee tried to talk to Ryo about it, but it was as if Ryo wanted to close the door between them, like he wanted to erase the past to make it less painful (I think). Then, when Ryo left, Dee just began grow this deep bitterness inside his heart. I know he blames himself for everything that happened, and I know he misses Ryo, even though he never talks about him; he hasn't spoken Ryo's name in over three years, as if Ryo never existed. He's even gone as far as to make all of Ryo's pictures and things disappear. Along those things, I think Dee began to disappear too.

I miss Dee…

_Dry, I am so dry_

_That I won't be able to give you a kiss_

_They've opened the trunk_

_Where you hid me once_

_And a bunch of bones start to warm-up_

"_Where are you?" the remains of an old heart ask with fear_

Half-past midnight, Dee was sitting at that barstool, drinking the remainders of his sixth glass of whiskey, wishing he could still smoke indoors. He could hear the soft mumble of the television set on the far-end of the bar and the loud music coming from the jukebox. The place was not even close of being full, yet the few people who where there weren't a bother and the bartender knew Dee as a regular so he just kept the whiskey coming. As Dee took a drink of his seventh glass, a tall, red-haired man sat next to him and ordered a shot of vodka.

"Hardcore drinker?" Dee asked, half smiling at himself for asking. The man turned to face him and smiled back. He was younger than Dee and had bright-green eyes that seemed to smile every time his lips did.

"I pretend to be just to look like a bad-ass in front of strangers. If it were up to me, I would have a tequila sunrise."

"Ah! You like the girly drinks."

"More like… I like the pretty colored drinks." He extended his hand to Dee. "Alexander. You can call me Alex."

"Dee. You can call me Dee," he shook the other man's hand briefly. Alex took his vodka shot and drank it whole.

"Damn, that's nasty!" he coughed. He motioned the bartender to serve him another one.

"So, why are _you_ drinking yourself stupid?"

"Nothing in particular, it's just that when shit happens, you need more shit to cope, you know? So… we'll just say that we both just need to deal with shit and we'll pretend that _this shit_," he raised his shot, "will make it better"

"You, sir, are correct," Dee raised his glass. "Cheers!"

"Cheers it is…"

They both drank the contents of their glasses to the last drop. When the bartender came back, Dee said, "Another whiskey for me… and a tequila sunrise for my buddy here…"

The bartender nodded and proceeded to abide to the petition. Alex gave Dee an expression of pure curiosity. "I am your buddy now?" he asked.

"Anyone who comes to drink with me instantly becomes my buddy. Now, I don't have many of those around, so you better take the offer and 'fezz up on why you're drinking yourself stupid tonight."

Alex took the tequila sunrise and grinned. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine."

Dee took one drink out of his whiskey and sighed. "Fare enough. Let's see… I am a cop. Three years ago I was on duty, big-ass narcotics case… long story short, I shot the boy whom I had accepted as my son as he got caught in the crossfire. My partner… my _life_ partner (who was my partner at work too) stopped talking to me and one day… he just… left. That's why I am drinking myself stupid tonight. So, what's your story?"

Alex rested his elbows on the barstool. "Gee… that's a real tough one to top. But I'll try nonetheless. Let's see… I got dumped about a month ago, maybe two. I'm a teacher: I teach biology at Bowie High, or I should say _I try_ to teach them biology. So the story starts with my girlfriend, Mirna, finding in my friend Mark the passionate love she, apparently, never had with me. To add insult to injury, I became very sick. I was taken to the hospital by my co-workers because I basically started convulsing and drooling in the middle of the classroom with all of my students freaking out, it was so embarrassing. Doctors tell me I have around four to five months to live if I follow the treatment word by word, but that means that I have to spend what's left of my life in a hospital. So, I figure – I'm gonna do the stuff I never did, right? So, I got dressed, left the hospital, and here I am taking vodka shots instead of the girly drinks, in a crazy attempt to get as stupidly drunk as I can."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight; I'll be twenty-nine in November… well… I _would_ be twenty-nine in November if it wasn't for the pesky little fact that November is six months away," he started to laugh. Dee laughed too.

"And does your family know you took off? They'll probably miss you when visiting time comes around."

"No family. Dad's gone. Mom was never there. I think I have an uncle in Vermont, but to tell the truth I never visited. Maybe it's time I did, hum? As for visitors, I think the excessive amount of flower arrangements and fluffy teddy bears in my room is making me sicker: my students do love to send them flowers and bears… which is kind of ironic, seeing as I am a _fluffy tigers_ kind of guy."

Dee giggled as Alex drank what was left of the drink, placed the glass on the bar as he stood, and padded Dee on the shoulder. "I guess I should get going. It'll be hard to get a taxi later on, especially one that doesn't wanna kill you and take what little money you have just because you're tipsy. See you around, Dee."

He took a couple of steps before Dee called out. "I could take you…"

Alex turned. "But – you're drunk," he arched his eyebrow.

"So? You're gonna die in four months anyway." Dee shrugged his shoulders as he stood and walked next to Alex.

"Good point…"

_Shake my life, my love_

_Remains should be still_

_Shake my life, my love_

_Remains like mine should not cry_


	5. Chapter 4: Disturbing Behavior

**Author's Notes: Thank you so much for the hits this story has gotten. Now, I don't want to sound bitchy, but I really loved it if you would leave your comments please, pretty please and all that… I'm thinking that maybe I shall do my happy dance and shake my bon-bon (shaking bon-bon right about now). It's 12 43 am here. Right now I should be sleeping because I have to give a class tomorrow. I really don't wanna give it – but what can one do?**

**Disclaimer: FAKE is property of Sanami Matoh. Other characters belong to me – but you can borrow them if you want. The song I play here is called "Disturbing Behavior" by Robert Palmer.**

**Porcelain**

_Chapter 4__: Disturbing Behavior_

Carol woke up to smell the sweet aroma of pancakes early in the morning and the happy whistle of music coming from the kitchen. It took her brain a few seconds to realize that (a) Dee never got up in such a cheery mood and (b) Dee _never_ cooked pancakes. She immediately thought of Ryo and jumped out of bed, running to the door and opening it with one swift move. She stormed to the kitchen and screamed when she saw the stranger with the red hair standing on the stove flipping pancakes, hurrying back to her room to take the bat she kept behind her door. The man turned obviously startled and immediately turned to face the stove so he never saw the moment Carol came back, bat at hand, ready to slugger his head off if he so dared to come close to her.

"Who are you and where is Dee?" Carol screamed.

The guy sighed nervously. "Breathe, Alex, breathe. Just turn around and say hi to the pretty girl," he said to himself. He turned around and smiled nervously. "Hi, Pretty Girl!" he waved.

"I said where is Dee?" she demanded, marking every word she said with a huff and a puff.

"Dee's out. I think he had to go in early. I woke up and he wasn't here, but he did leave a very nice note saying that I should make myself at home and that he would swing by later to give me a ride home, and he did say that you were sleeping on the other room and not to try anything funny with you or else he would hunt me down like a rat and skin me alive. Since I do appreciate the skin I'm in, I decided to let you sleep while I made breakfast. Lucky for me you had some pancake mix; I do love me the pancakes!"

Carol seemed to relax at each word Alex said. There was something in his eyes and his body language that soothed her. She placed the bat against the wall. "So – you're Dee's new boy toy?" she asked as Alex turned off the stove and turned around with two plates with pancakes and placed them on the counter. He made a perfect double take blink and grinned.

"No – I don't do the boy thing. I do like me the pretty girls… Pretty Girl."

Carol blushed. "Oh… I'm sorry it's just that I thought that…"

"Me and Dee are drinking buddies now," he said as-a-matter-of-factly as he sat down on a stool and began to cut through the pancakes. Carol did the same. "I met him last night – and he offered to take me home, but then when we got out he realized that the bar was just two blocks away and he didn't have his car. So we came here and, well, he was pretty hammered, so I asked him if I could just crash here for the night. He said okay but then I asked to use the bathroom, and when I came out… well, Dee was sleeping on the couch and well… I just went ahead and slept on the bed. A little hard for my taste, but I guess anything's better than hospital beds."

"Hum!" Carol mumbled as she took a bite. The pancakes were very good. "So what's your name?"

"You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

"Carol."

"Alexander, Alex for short."

"A pleasure," Carol stretched out her hand. He took it and kissed it. Carol pulled it away as she turned all shades of red. He giggled.

"The pleasure is all mine, Pretty Girl."

Carol couldn't bring herself to say anything after that. She concentrated on gobbling down on the pancakes and avoiding eye contact. Alex seemed to enjoy that taken by the sudden little school girl's giggles she mustered every once and a while. This only seemed to get Carol even more nervous. "How are the pancakes?" Alex asked at long last.

"Good," Carol replied.

"I'm glad, 'cause you're doing the dishes," Alex picked up the plates and stocked them one on top of the other. Carol's mouth was wide open.

"Hey! _You_ cooked, _you_ do the dishes!"

"Nope. I cook, I get to watch _you_ do dishes and talk about nonsense while you're at it. Besides, I'm a houseguest: you've already made me cook you breakfast, it would be pretty rude of you if you made me wash dishes on top of that."

"I didn't -- the _nerve_!" Carol got up and carried the dishes to the zinc. Alex leaned on his elbows as he watched Carol wash the dishes.

"You know… you have a dishwasher…"

"It doesn't work," Carol sounded upset.

"Are you mad because I made you wash dishes?"

"No. I'm mad because you have some nerve! You get drunk, crash in _my_ place, and then act as if _I_ made you cook for me! No one _asked_ you to _do_ anything! In fact, I don't even know what the heck you're doing here!"

"Technically, this ain't your place… you share it with Dee."

"Yeah, well, Dee ain't here, is he?"

"He'll be here later. Which reminds me, I got to go. I need to go feed Mr. Pancita. D'you wanna go with me?"

"With you?" Carol turned on her heels.

"Yeah. I mean, I crashed in _your_ place, might as well take you to mine so you'll know where to crash if you ever need crashing."

"And what in God's name makes you think that I'll go over to some stranger's place?"

"I'm no stranger, remember? I already told you my name is Alex." He grinned after that. Carol found his smile to be undoubtedly charming.

"I still don't know anything about you. You could be some psycho murderer who takes advantage of people just to get girls in to his place…" at that moment Carol remembered her encounter with the sort when she was younger. "It's not a good experience," she said painfully. She also remembered the way she threw herself from the window, Ryo catching her, Bikky comforting her after, and Dee beating the living shit out of the guy before Ryo could come in and make the arrest. Mostly, her heart ached by the memory of Bikky being there for her.

"If I was that sort of psycho, I would have done something already," Alex sounded hurt. He stood and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Bad things happen, I agree, but you can't let them control your life or else you might end-up living in a dark corner and miss out on the fun facts of life. So, what do you say? I'll even let you carry the bat so if I try anything on you, you can just slam my head with it."

Carol though about it for a moment. His eyes gazed upon hers as if they were reading right down to her very soul. She smiled. "Okay," she said. "But no monkey business!"

"I hate monkeys," Alex said placing his forehead against hers. After finishing the dishes, Carol got dressed while Alex waited for her on the living room. As soon as she was ready, they headed out to catch a taxi.

The ride was a very pleasant one. Alex couldn't stop talking and Carol couldn't stop herself from asking all sorts of questions. It was an undeniable gravitation force that drove her to know more about him. She learned about his absent family, about his childhood, about his teaching career, about his friend Mark and his ex-girlfriend, Marcia. She knew his favorite color, food, flower, and plushy animal. She sang along to their favorite song when it came on the radio and talked about T.V. shows and music. He was a fan of Beethoven and Hinder, yet knew every Garth Brooks song by heart. By the time she realized it, she noticed they were heading to Park Avenue.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"My place," he replied naturally.

"You live in _Park Avenue_?" she sounded flabbergasted.

"Well… yeah," he shrugged his shoulders. "Is there a problem?"

The apartment was the penthouse of a very fancy building. It had its own elevator door and golden card key. The doorman even greeted him with a "Good afternoon, Mr. Lawrence," and vowed his head when they walked by. The place was huge and expensive. The place was covered with white carpet and nice furniture to match. Oak bookshelves, coffee tables, and nightstands. Beautiful paintings on the walls and a fake fireplace on the living room with crystal animal figurines on top of it. There were pictures on the black piano that rested next to the fireplace, most of them with people smiling at them. There were no pictures of him though and for a while, Carol thought that this wasn't really his place.

"Do you actually live here?" she asked. At that moment, a cat made its appearance, purring and demanding attention from the owner. It was black with a white spot on its stomach.

"Carol, meet Mr. Pancita," Alex said taking the cat into his hands and showing it to Carol. She took it playfully and kissed its nose. "The place is not mine," Alex said. "It's my father's. Well, it used to be my father's, just before he died. He left it to me – and you can say that I do live here, but I would rather have a nicer place downtown or something… I want to sell this place."

"But it's beautiful!" she gasped.

"Yeah. But the beauty will never compensate for the lonesomeness that carries. That's why I have Mr. Pancita here: he keeps me company. Com'on, let's feed the poor bastard."

Carol followed him to the biggest kitchen she'd ever seen. The hanging casseroles and pans shone like polished silver, and everything seemed so clean and shinny. As soon as Mr. Pancita heard the food on its plate, it wanted to get rid of Carol's grip. It jumped to the floor and ran over to its feeding corner, munching on the food as a starving beast. Alex sighed. "I really wish he would have better manners, though," then he said to the cat, "Sheesh! Mr. Pancita! Carol will think I never feed you!"

She laughed at that. He turned to her, his face beaming with light. "And she laughs!" he said. "She _does_ look prettier when she laughs!"

When Dee opened the door, he heard laughter coming from inside. There was Alex, leaning over the stove, cooking something that smelled rather good while Carol was sitting on one of the stools, chopping something green. Dee closed the door behind him. "What's all the fuzz about?" he asked. Carol turned.

"You should get more drinking buddies as fun as this one," she commented as Dee approached. Alex turned.

"Hi," he waved. Dee nodded.

"You two got acquainted?"

"Very much so. He even took me to his place to meet his cat. He's _got a cat_, Dee!" Carol said.

"You took her to your place?" Dee said tensely. "How nice of you!"

"It's nothing like that," Alex replied sensing Dee's tension. "I took her but she took along her slugger. Nothing strange happened. She just met the cat, fed it, gave me a blow job, and we were out of there."

Dee took the knife out of Carol's hands and threaten to go stab Alex, if hadn't been for Carol who stopped him right on his track, "That's not true! We just went to his place to feed the cat, and then we just hung around the house. I didn't give him a blow job, Dee, com'on! Put the knife down!"

"You better not try anything fancy like that with her or I swear I'll kill you!" Dee pointed at Alex breathing harshly. Alex said nothing but nodded. Dee turned around and walked to his room, slamming the door behind him. Alex and Carol looked at each other and giggled.

A few moments later, the three of them were enjoying a rather delicious dinner and a rather pleasant conversation that led to T.V. time and gossiping about the celebrities that appeared on the box, and that led to Carol walking Alex to the front of the building to wait for the cab they had called. It was thirty minutes passed eleven already.

"I really enjoyed the day," Carol said sitting next to him on the stairway.

"I gave you my phone number, right?" he asked. She nodded. "Good. I would like it if you called sometime."

"I will. Thanks for dinner… and breakfast… and lunch…"

"You're welcomed." The taxi parked. "Well, that's my ride. It was nice meeting you and Dee, Carol."

"Same here. Say hi to Mr. Pancita for me." She said. As soon as she finished talking, Alex leaned over to kiss her. It was a light, soft kiss that felt like a soft summer breeze on her lips. When he parted from her, he just sighed; his eyes sparkled in a way she had never seen anyone's eyes sparkle before. "Wow," he whispered out of breath. "All that from one small kiss. If I ever kiss you properly, I think I'll die."

After this, he got into the cab and drove off. Carol was still stunned. She wanted to move, to scream, to do something. But all she could do was blush and feel like something was burning deep inside her heart.

_Impropriety got the best of me  
Impropriety wrote my destiny  
Disturbing behavior on the common front  
Outrageous behavior convinces everyone  
We want perfect behavior out of everyone_


	6. Chapter 5: Life Goes On

**Author's Notes**: I wanted to post this one yesterday but I am such a bird brain that I forgot to do it. I think this plot is rather light – or is it? This chapter is short but meaningful. I do hope that you're enjoying this story, as I have drafted the final chapter and – believe me – it's good. I do have a webpage you can visit me at. It's yuvia. and there you can find a link to my livejournal. The page contains images that I have done from original stories and some journal entries I did before I went ahead and created the livejournal account. Oh! This chapter is a two-part chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FAKE. It is property of Sanami Matoh. Other characters do belong to me. A curious fact that I am going to write here is that the bar and the characters in the bar are all part of an original piece of work called "A Dreamer's Realm". So there! The song is called "Life goes on" by Poison (yeah, I do like my cheesy hair-metal bands).

**Porcelain**

_Chapter Five: Life Goes On_

J.J. walked into the office and placed a yellow post-it on Dee's desk. "Alex?" he asked. Dee looked over at the note and smiled. They were over at 27th headquarters, leaning back after cracking a case that had them flipping backwards for the last couple of weeks. The entire narcotics division was sort of in a party mood thanks to this, and the chatter could be heard all across the building. J.J. and Dee sat in their chairs behind desks in the office that Dee once shared with Ryo. J.J. had taken upon himself to erase any trace there was of Ryo and had done a pretty darn good job at it too. "Who is this Alex person and why does he call and leave a message?"

"He's a guy I met at a bar – and no, he's not into men," Dee said before J.J. had the chance to ask. J.J. sort of relaxed. He was sort of hoping that he had a chance with Dee – an _official_ chance with Dee.

J.J. and Dee had been partners ever since Dee came back and Ryo was gone. At first, J.J. tried to be the all-comprehensive buddy that he thought Dee needed after everything he'd been through, and Dee seemed to be appreciative of the gesture, particularly the fact that J.J. had long stopped being the annoying child he was way back when he first got to the precinct and Dee and Ryo began to go out as a couple. J.J. had matured, yet his feelings for Dee were not a mystery for anyone, including Dee himself.

J.J., on the other hand, felt relief when he heard those words come out of Dee. That meant that Dee was still alone – _there was still a chance he could replace Ryo_. J.J. knew that this possibility was a farfetched one, yet he loved to think about and dream about it. He loved to picture waking right next to Dee and not think that the room had to be emptied before noon. He loved the idea of having what Dee had with Ryo once. Maybe that was the bad part of the entire deal, because Dee, in more than one occasion, did take advantage of J.J.'s willingness and tried to fill his emptiness by screwing around with J.J. The damage these occasional encounters were still to be seen by both men.

In the meantime, J.J. still sighed whenever Dee left the room.

"Alex is more like a drinking buddy I would love to keep around," Dee grinned before taking a zip from his cup of coffee. "He's fun to talk to."

"Well, I'm glad you're having the time to make new friends," J.J. sounded somewhat hurt. "Are we still on for tonight?"

Dee looked at him with a question mark on his face. J.J. leaned forward. "Poker night, remember? You, me, Drake, Ted? Don't tell me you forgot, Dee Laytener!"

"Okay, I won't tell you."

"My God, Dee! Poker night is, like, sacred! It's like going to church – one must _never_ miss poker night!" J.J. sounded frantic. After poker was over it was usually when Dee drove him over to a night in paradise.

Dee got up and picked-up his coat. "What can I say?" he said as he put it on. "I'm one hell of a sinner."

Carol opened the door. It was well past ten and she didn't expect anyone to be there at that hour. A few weeks had gone by and Josh (the friend from California) had been a no-show. Carol sort of had the suspicion that he was not going to show up after the phone calls stopped coming and the due date went by and nothing happened. Either way, Carol was sort of happy Josh stayed in California. That meant she could spend a little more time with her new friend, Alex.

They had been seeing more of each other for the past week or so yet there had not been another kiss since that night. Carol was sort of expecting more kissing, but Alex apparently had other ideas. Yet when she saw him that night behind the door, her heart began to beat faster than usual. "Hi," she leaned against the door.

"Hi there, pretty girl. Is Dee here?" he asked. Carol nodded. "He's getting ready," she sounded disappointed. "Are you two going out tonight – _again_?"

Alex nodded. "I want to take him to this _awesome_ place." Carol puffed her lips.

"Sure! Take him to the awesome places and take me to feed your cat!" she whined. Alex winked. "If you want me to, I'll take you to heaven next weekend."

She turned red. Dee walked in to the conversation. "Did I miss something?" he asked. Alex shook his head. "I was just making small conversation with the pretty girl. Shall we go?"

"Let's," Dee said walking outside. Alex blew a kiss to Carol before she closed the door. The taxi was waiting downstairs.

"Where are we going?" Dee asked as they opened the doors to climb inside.

"It's a bar, on the other side of town. It's _awesome_."

As the cab moved through the streets, Dee kept quietly looking outside. Alex sighed. "Spit it out," he said.

"I don't like you going out with Carol and giving her hope that she might have something to do with you when you're gonna bite the dust in a matter of months."

Alex chuckled. "Outch. That was low."

"I mean it. You and Carol had been goody-good friends for the last month and I don't want her to cry over a corpse again. It's not fair to her."

"I'll tell her and then she can make-up her own mind, okay?" Alex said.

"Are you even serious about her? Don't lie to me 'cause I can see right through you."

Alex looked outside for a moment. "Yeah, I am," he replied almost to himself. Dee contained a gasp. "I like her, Dee," Alex turned to face Dee's eyes. "I mean – I think _I really_ like her. And it sucks because I have so little time to get to know her. But I do want to spend what little time I have left with her; she's amazing."

"She doesn't deserve to be hurt like that," Dee said seriously.

"Just like you didn't deserve to be hurt by this Ryo person, hum?" Alex said bluntly.

The ride was pretty silent after that.

They arrived to a big building with a long line of people waiting to go in. The place had neon lights that read "The Lighthouse", and the guys at the door looked less than friendly. Alex and Dee walked right up to them. "Hi," Alex said. "I'm Alexander Lawrence."

The doormen looked at each other and allowed him and Dee in. The place was big. It was a bar with a stage on the corner and dim lights that gave a very jazzy atmosphere. The tables seemed full, the bar was filled with people yet the place itself didn't seem to be as full as to keep all those people outside. "It's a gimmick," Alex explained as they headed for a table near to the stage. "It's what gives the place hype."

"How do you know about this place? I've never heard of it before."

"I know the bartender," he replied pointing to the bar. "His name is sort of weird, but he's one heck of a guy."

"Welcome to the Lighthouse, my name is Sarah and I'll be your waitress tonight. What can I get a couple of fine gentlemen tonight?" a pretty red-curly-haired young woman said as she stood next to the table, her notepad at hand.

"Hi Sarah, my name is Alex and this is my drinking pal, Dee. We would like a bottle of your finest whiskey, two glasses, and loads of ice."

"A number six," Sarah said writing it down. "My slave David will bring it right over. Have a good time!"

She left and went over to another table right after she gave a skinny young man the order. Dee observed how the guy took the paper over to the bar and pretty soon he was walking over to the table with a tray with a bottle of Johnny Walker (Black Label), two whiskey glasses, and a small bucket of ice. He rapidly placed the items on the table, took a small bow and left just as the red-haired woman was flashing another piece of paper. "Good efficiency," Dee commented as Alex poured the whiskey over the ice in the glasses.

"She bosses that poor shrew around, but I've never seen him complain about it."

"If you've been around, how come she acts as if she has never seen you?"

"Because I've asked her to," Alex said. Dee arched his eyebrow. "Sarah can be quite the character…" just then, they heard a high-pitch scream. Sarah was now hugging a customer at table six. "See what I mean?"

"So – what is so great about this place?" Dee asked.

"The band; they're called The League and they are the most amazing band you've ever heard! True, they play mostly cover songs, but I swear to what is holier than thou, Dee, that this band sings those songs ten times better than the original artists."

"Wow."

"I wanted to bring you here so you could listen to them and fall in love with the lead singer's voice just as I have, and then I won't look like a freak when I drool over whenever she starts singing Billie Holiday songs."

Dee looked at Alex in silent awe for a moment. "You really are a piece of work."

"Thank you. I try."

Sarah took the stage and tested the microphone. "Ladies and drunken bastards! Welcome to the Lighthouse, the only place where you get to listen to the now three-time War of the Bands champions – The League!"

The people roared in cheers and applause. The lead singer was a gorgeous young woman who wore a red dress that lead little to the imagination. Her hair was long and black, and her heels made her look two times taller than she was. She took the microphone and looked straight at Dee's and Alex's table. "Thanks. I think I know what our first song is going to be… but you know the drill, after this one, is all-request time!"

She turned to the band and gave them silent instructions. The guitar began to play… and Dee's soul reacted as he never expected it to. Alex kept a keen eye over Dee's reactions with a serene expression on his face. Dee was mesmerized by the girl's voice. "So," Alex started. "Who is Ryo?"

**... to be continued...**


	7. Chapter 6: The Kill

Author's Notes: Welcome to another well overdue chapter of Porcelain. I know I should have updated this story sooner, but trust me, no one feels as guilty for leaving in such a rush as I do. So, without further ado, here you have another installment of the story. Please leave your comments and such at the review box. I do read each review and if asked, I reply to them. I do have a new journal at .com (if you are interested at all in my so-called life).

Disclaimer: "Fake" belongs to Sanami Matoh and her people. The rest of the characters belong to moi. The song is called "The Kill" by 30 Seconds to Mars.

**Porcelain**

_**Chapter Six: The Kill**_

**_(Friday Night)_**

"Ryo was my partner," Dee started to talk after a while. "We were both working at the precinct and we became more than working buddies. We became lovers. We lived together and over the years we became accustomed to the idea of spending the rest of our lives together. We had our ups and downs, but there was nothing that we couldn't fix. Bikky was a kid when Ryo took him in: his parents had died in a murder case and Bikky had no one to look after him, so Ryo stepped up to the challenge and became his mom/dad, and over time, I became part of his family too o though in the beginning, Bikky would rather be kissing a monkey's ass than to talk to me."

"I'm guessing things changed when Bikky died," Alex said. Dee took a drink and nodded.

"Things _drastically_ changed when Bikky died."

"How did Bikky die?"

"He was caught in the crossfire of a drug bust," Dee said almost to himself, mesmerized by the band's next song. "He and his friend, Rai, worked in some freelance detective agency. I warned Bikky several times that it was some dangerous bit the shit he got himself into sometimes, but him being as stubborn as a mule, wouldn't listen. So one night we broke a drug-smuggling ring that connected the drugs in New York that were coming from the Juarez Cartel and it became nasty shootings. I had no idea that Bikky and his friend had been following one of the bastards because he was related to the disappearance of Rai's friend, Lass. They were both caught in the crossfire – Rai was unharmed but Bikky wasn't: he died on the way to the hospital. After that Ryo became so depressed that sometimes he would go into these silent spells that could last for days. Other times he was so angry he would snap over any little detail, almost killing some of the suspects once or twice to the point that he got suspended more than one occasion. They ordered him to get counseling, but he never did – and if he did, he never told me. He started to not tell me things, and most of the time I could swear he blamed me for everything. And little by little, I began to believe it myself. So one day, I come home… and he's gone. No note, no messages, nothing. His clothes are gone, all his ids and his important papers, all gone. I contact the precinct and turns out that he has left his badge and gun and no one knows where the heck he went. We trace the car plaques and turns out that the car is left abandoned at the bus station. I began to realize that Ryo had left to avoid being around me or anything related to Bikky or that reminded him of Bikky so I didn't look for him. And I know Carol knows where he lives and what he does, but I also know that Ryo has asked her – very politely – to keep her nose out of this one. And I think that she has respected his wishes and I can't blame her for that."

"Do you hate Ryo for what he did? I mean, for leaving and everything?"

"At first I did. Now, I don't know."

"Do you still love him?"

"I don't know."

"If Ryo would show up in your doorstep, roses and all, asking you to take him back on a stormy winter night, would you take him back?"

Dee took the last drink from his glass then turned to look Alex in the eye. "I don't know," he said, and Alex knew he meant it.

_What if I wanted to break?_

_Laugh it all off in your face…_

_What would you do?_

_What if I fell to the floor?_

_Couldn't tell you this anymore_

_What would you do – to do?_

**_(Monday morning)_**

Four o'clock in the morning and Jeremy Adams was dragging his half-asleep feet over to the communicator to the side of the door, muttering out cuss words as it was the beginning of his day off and it was already starting on a foul note. It seemed that someone had no time-respect and was buzzing his way into his place. For a moment, he thought of his scandalous cat-lady neighbor who had her friends come to visit at wee hours in the mornings from time to time (strange city this one was indeed) and thought of a vicious way to get even (poison cat, hang cat, kidnap cat and ask for ransom, sniper cat, anything that would really get crazy cat-lady) but then when he snapped and replied with a "WHAT?" to the intercom, he heard the all-familiar voice of Dee coming from the other side.

"Good morning. I brought coffee."

"Oh… come on up…" JJ said and then stood there, in complete iced shock, thinking a thousand thoughts at once, feeling his hands shaking. He looked down. Oh god! He was wearing his little guns and pistols pj's and his fluffy bear paws slippers. Not manly – not manly at all. He was about to rush over to change when he heard the knock on the door. Oh god! He was doing a little school girl's skip-dance right about now because he said he had brought coffee.

At last, after a deep breath or two (and ye good old trusty mantra of "keep it cool, keep it cool"), J.J. gained his composure and opened the door. Dee was leaning on the frame, looking scruffy and kind of drunk. "I lied about the coffee," he said just as he stepped inside, took J.J. from the waist and leaned in to kiss him. It was a long, passionate kiss that made J.J. stumble back until he hit the wall with Dee practically on top of him; a kiss that tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, bittersweet and sexy at the same time. He didn't know at what moment did the door closed behind them, but he didn't care (not even when the thought of crazy cat lady coming out and witnessing the hot moment that he was having right then and there – in fact, the idea kind of turned him on in a nasty kinky-kitty sort of way). Dee's hands were pinning his hands to the wall above his head; Dee's tongue was teasing his own; Dee's lips were opening his shamelessly; Dee's teeth were biting his lips and making him moan in delight. He half-opened his eyes to get drenched in Dee's green gaze and the feeling that it was him Dee was looking at made him blush relentlessly. With what little strength and will he could muster, he pushed Dee away and took a few steps away from the wall. He felt his lips burning, his knees shaking, his insides turning upside down. His breath was short and fast as Dee leaned against the wall and looked at him with nothing less than unbridled lust.

"You're drunk," J.J. said gasping for air, trying to control himself from taking advantage of the situation like so many times before. "You're hot, and sexy, and one heck of a kisser – but you're drunk."

"I am not that drunk and I know what I'm doing and what I want, and what I want right now is you in the most devious positions conceived by man. Is that a sin?" Dee said with a mischievous smile drawn on his lips.

"In many cultures, yes, but that's not the point! The point is that you only get like this when you're drunk and you only drink when you remember Ryo."

"So? That was never an issue before," Dee snorted ironically.

"Well, I'm getting sick and tired of it: I'm tired of being Ryo's fucking shadow for you. I'm tired of wondering if you're looking at me or picturing Ryo while you undress me and blow me off."

Dee walked over to J.J. and leaned over to his ear. "You know?" he whispered, "You're the most difficult whore I know."

He was beginning to walk away when he felt J.J. take his arm and stop him. "I asked you once what happens now," he heard J.J.'s stern voice. Dee kept quiet but did nothing to release himself from J.J.'s grip. "My feelings for you are very well-known by you and everyone else in the precinct. I love you –"

Dee took a couple of steps, J.J.'s grip loosening as his arm limped down wearingly. "I'm emotionally exhausted," he heard J.J. say softly. "I have allowed you to take advantage of my feelings so you can ease the pain of Ryo leaving and basically use me as a fuck-toy. That can't lead to anything good for anyone. So I'm asking you again: what happens now, Dee?"

Dee stood there for what seemed years on end. Silently, he walked to the door and softly closed it as he stepped outside. Meanwhile, J.J. walked towards his bedroom, felt terribly ill all of a sudden as tears began to roll down his cheeks and was beginning to feel as if something inside him had died and left him stranded in the middle of a terrible, empty void he could not escape from. He tightened his trembling fists and threw a bunch of punches against the near-by wall, so hard that he actually made a hole on the wall by the third hit.

"Fuck you, Dee Laytener," he whispered clenching his teeth and closing his eyes as he did so.

_Come break me down_

_Burry me, burry me_

_I am finished with you!_

_Look in my eyes_

_You're killing me, killing me_

_All I wanted was you!_

**_(Friday afternoon)_**

"J.J. reported sick since Tuesday afternoon," Drake said a couple of days later. "But I've been calling his house and his cell phone and _nada_. I'm worried about him."

Dee pretended he wasn't paying attention to what Drake was talking over with Ted on the other side of the office. Both men, however, gave a slight glimpse over at Dee, kind of waiting the moment when Dee would jump in and make an inappropriate comment about J.J.'s whereabouts. However, Dee did not pull away from whatever he was doing. "Hey Dee," Ted openly said. "D'you know anything about J.J.?"

Dee didn't reply. He was trying to avoid the memory of that night by all means necessary and Ted's question wasn't helping his cause. He felt terrible: he had dragged J.J. along to his emotional train wreck knowing how the felt about him; he had taken advantage of this and used J.J. to make his ego feel somewhat better in some twisted, pink romance writer, sort of way. The worse part of it was that he didn't feel sorry about all this, but rather about the harshness of that night alone. Somehow he felt that the entire ordeal could have gone better if he had only slipped his hand down J.J.'s pants sooner because that would usually just make J.J. shut the heck up and enjoy the ride he was willing to provide for the night.

OK, so officially he was scum.

"J.J!" he heard Drake call out. He raised his head and saw J.J. greeting Drake and Ted, his right hand in a cask.

"What happened to you?" Ted asked. "Drake here has been worrying about you and has been driving me and other around him crazy."

"I'm sorry if I worried you…" J.J. said calmly. He threw a murdering, slight glimpse at Dee and walked over to the desk.

Dee was still pretending not to care, thus he never noticed the moment J.J. walked over to the desk nor was he prepared for the strong kick he gave it throwing everything on top off balance. "I'm still your fucking partner, Laytener!" J.J. said angrily bitter as he kicked the desk. Dee looked up.

"What happened to your hand?" Dee asked a little taken aback by J.J.'s uncharacteristically foul mood.

J.J. muffled a laugh. "As if you care," he said walking away. The phone rang. With his eyes still watching J.J., Dee picked it up.

"Hello?" he asked. Something on the other side made him jump up and turn pale. "WHAT? WHERE? – I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!" he slammed the phone and ran outside. It seemed that time stopped and he couldn't go fast enough, making him spit out cussing that would make any sailor blush.

_Not yet, mother-fucker, not yet! _Dee kept thinking as he flew across the city. _Goddamn it! I swear if you die today I'll kill you! Do you hear me? I'll KILL you!_

**To be concluded...**


End file.
